


On The Brink

by lil_1337



Series: Rose Garden [20]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-16
Updated: 2006-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://sdqb.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://sdqb.livejournal.com/"><b>sdqb</b></a> prompt balloon and the <a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/"><b>gw500</b></a> prompt deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Brink

"Balloons are for little kids and girls, Dad." Triton's chin rose defiantly even as he stared wistfully at the bunch of brightly colored orbs floating above them.

Quatre frowned, loath to give up part of his yearly trip to the circus. It was something special the two of them did together. With his work schedule he didn't always have the time to spend with his young son he wanted, but when the circus came to town it was a special celebration. WEI gave its employees a weeklong holiday and encouraged their employees to spend time with their families.

Trowa was performing today, having spent a good part of the last month honing skills that never seemed to get rusty, despite their lack of use in his day to day life. This evening Cathy and rest of the circus would descend on the house for a family reunion of sorts, but today belonged to Quatre and Triton. They would roam through the festival that had attached itself to the circus, eating junk food and riding all matter of strange rides.

As the sun was setting, they would find Trowa's dressing room to wish him luck then make their way to their seats. The whole show was always wonderful, but the highlight was watching Cathy introducing her darling brother before proceeding to strap him to a board and throw knives at him. The stoicism that had characterized their first performances was gone now, replaced with good-natured banter that entertained the audience as much as the act itself.

Every moment, from being woken by an excited child, to the morning after grouchiness, was steeped in the richness of history. Damn it, Quatre did not want to give it up, not one single solitary moment. Intellectually he knew Triton was growing up, but part of him wanted to hold onto his little boy as long as possible.

Quatre studied the balloons, looking between them and his son. He was the CEO of a major corporation and negotiated billion credit deals every day. There was a solution to this; he just needed to find it.

"Well," Quatre pursed his lips in thought. "Poppa likes balloons. How would it be if we bought one for him? You could hold onto it and give to him after the show tonight."

Triton considered this and found the compromise an acceptable one. Taking the money Quatre offered him, he approached the balloon vender, announcing loudly that he was buying the balloon for his Poppa. Careful consideration resulted in the purchase of a bright green balloon the color of Poppa's clown pants. That was right since the balloon was for /Poppa/ and Triton was just holding it for him. He really wasn't a little kid anymore being almost the ripe old age of eight.

They walked away from the merchants' row, balloon secured around Triton's wrist and the obligatory cotton candy coating their fingers. Triton slipped his hand into Quatre's for just a moment. He looked up at the balloon floating serenely above them and whispered "Thanks, Daddy."

"You're welcome," Quatre whispered back with a wink, secure in the knowledge that at least for today his son had not grown beyond him.


End file.
